Because You Are So Dear
by Wilting Rose 08
Summary: Not so one-shot anymore, kind of surprise ending. Harry's phone goes off in the middle of an Order meeting. Who is it, and who would inspire a love song as their ring tone?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing, including the song lyrics in italics.

Author's Note: I couldn't help it, okay? I got the ringtone for the second one, and I just couldn't stop myself… :grumble, grumble:

Because You Are So Dear

"_Our song is the slamming screen door_."

Everyone looked around the room, the purebloods and a few half-bloods in horror at what must have infiltrated. The rest of the half-bloods and the muggleborn looked more amused, wondering who had the misfortune of forgetting to put their phone on silent during the Order meeting. I was laughing at Ron. I glanced over at Harry, who was slowly turning red.

"Harry, you might as well answer it," I called. Harry went a brighter shade of red, while the people who knew what was going on began to snicker.

"I'm going," he groaned. He walked out of the kitchen. I snuck off after him moments later, wanting to know who had _actually_ called during an Order meeting. All of the people in my phone, except my parents, were _at _the meeting.

"I can't talk right now," I heard Harry mutter from the drawing room. "There's an Order meeting…What do you mean, you _know_ there's an Order meeting? You bastard!" I heard him slam his phone shut, but before I could duck out of the way, Harry came flying out of the room.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"Listening," I admitted, eyeing Harry's face. He really seemed more amused than angry, despite what he'd said on the phone. "Who was on the phone?"

"My boyfriend," he answered. My eyes widened slightly.

"Where you going to tell us you were dating someone?"

"Probably not for a while yet," he replied honestly.

"You know you can count on us."

"Do you want to help me later?" he asked mischievously. "Just stay here after the meeting. You'll probably get to meet him then." With that said, he walked back into the kitchen, just in time to hear Snape's latest report about Voldemort.

* * *

"Harry, what are we going to do?" I asked after everyone had left.

"Just wait," he grinned. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." What an odd question…

"Good, hold on."

With that said, we disappeared from 12 Grimmauld Place, only to reappear in front of a fairly nondescript house.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"Just wait."

It took a few moments to get passed the wards on the place, marking it as a wizard's home, and a fairly paranoid wizard's home at that. Of course, if they were dating Harry, they probably had good reason to be, as they would be huge targets for Voldemort. We snuck in the back door, and up what must have once been the servants' stairs. 'What a happy spot,' I thought sarcastically.

"Here we are," he said, pushing open a bedroom door.

'This doesn't look too bad,' I thought, examining the surroundings. The walls were a light cream color, while all of the wood was a dark brown, and most of the upholstery was green.

Harry, meanwhile, was digging through the bedside table. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly, holding up a cell phone. "Now to just change that." He set to work, setting a custom ringtone. Moments after he finished, we heard footsteps. "Hide!" he hissed, pulling out his invisibility cloak. We crawled under, and he cast a surprising number of spells on us. As he finished, a man walked in from the hallway. He had obviously been showering as his hair was still damp, and he only had a towel.

'If I'm perfectly honest,' I realized. 'I'm not sure if I'm happy he's got that towel on or not. I suppose he's Harry's boyfriend, though.' Glancing over, Harry nodded, confirming my thoughts.

The man had dark hair to just below his shoulders, and deep blue eyes. He made his way towards his armoire, pulling out a black robe. He dropped his towel, and I was extremely grateful that one of the spells Harry had cast had been a silencing spell on them as I let out a surprised squeak. Harry giggled slightly. I shook my head.

The man soon left, grabbing his phone as he went. "I hope he didn't turn it to silent," Harry said. "Come on, we need to hurry, or we'll miss it!"

We got to the bottom of the stairs in time to see many robed figures apparating in. "We better go up farther," Harry murmured. "They won't apparate in farther up."

"Harry, what's going on?"

"Just wait and see," he grinned. When it seemed that all of the expected people were present, we continued down the stairs, following the path the others had taken to the basement.

"Harry, what are we doing?" I asked, coming to conclusions I most certainly didn't like.

"Just watch!" he grinned. We got to the basement. There was a man on a throne in the front of the room, hissing at people. Voldemort.

"Harry, this is stupid! We're going to get caught!" I hissed at him, scared more than I care to admit.

"Of course we will, don't worry so much," Harry grinned, pulling out his cell phone. He hit one, then the call button.

Somewhere in the room, a cell phone went off. 'How could Harry date a Death Eater?' I thought frantically. 'We're going to get killed!' A moment later, I realized what I'd been thinking. "Oh boy, do I have _my_ priorities screwed up."

"Shh," Harry said, waving at me to be quiet. Then I started listening.

"_You're my honey bunch, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin, you're my sweety pie. You're my cuppy cake, gumdrop, snoogums-boogums. You're the apple of my eye._"

"Whose phone is that?" Voldemort hissed. No one answered.

"Harry, you're going to get him killed!"

"Just wait."

"My lord?" a death eater, soon identified as Lucius Malfoy, said. "I believe it's yours."

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "I don't have…that… Oh, you're going to get it. _Accio_."

Harry was doubled over giggling too hard to hold onto the cloak. My face went slack as I realized exactly what happened.

"But how…?" was all I could get out.

"There's so many, 'Mione. You'll have to be more specific," Harry managed to get out.

"Potter, I should have known you'd be behind this," Malfoy sighed, almost…resignedly?

"We'll be going now," Harry said, standing up and summoning his cloak back from a not-very-amused Dark Lord. " But _I_ will be back. See you later, Tom!" He winked.

"Harry… Harry… What…?" I couldn't get much more out as we left the room.

"Severus, I thought you said she was the smart one?" I heard Voldemort ask.

"Oh hush up, you," Harry called back. "Come on, Hermione, I'll explain everything."

"You better," I managed to get out, hearing many Death Eaters behind us chuckle…or was that giggle?"

* * *

_**And I love you so and I want you to know**_

_**That I'll always be right here**_

_**And I love to sing sweet songs to you**_

_**Because you are so dear**_

Author's Note: I couldn't resist. I am, however, working on the next chapter of Still Not In Control. Find it funny? Find it cute? Find it a waste of time? Tell me, I'll probably agree on all three!


	2. Time Travel

-1Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, not even the way this story is going to be set up now…

Author's Note: So yes, I've decided to continue. As I've got quite a few ideas as to how Harry and Tom got together, I'm finishing this story a bit like how _Clue_ was finished. If you've seen the movie, you know what I mean. Also, most of these **will** be parodies of other ways they've gotten together in other fics. However, I want to focus on one parody at a time, hence the set-up.

Chapter Two

Time Travel: The Real Way to Make your Galleon Go Farther

"Where to begin," Harry mused. I glared. He laughed. "It started one day when I was… erm… _inspecting_ Dumbledore's office. I picked up one of the numerous shiny silver things, and all of a sudden, _poof_, I was in the hospital wing. And I had no idea who the nurse was. She was kind enough to explain to me that I had landed back in the 1940s. My first thought, naturally, was that Voldemort would be much easier to kill in this time than in ours, as he was much more defenseless there. Turned out he was easier to get a hold of than expected…"

_Back Story_

"Hello," Dumbledore called across the hospital wing. Armando Dippet, the obvious second fiddle, despite being the Headmaster, skulked somewhere in the background. "As you're new here, and since young Tom Riddle is someone I trust implicitly, I'm going to allow him to show you around. Now, be sure you do nothing to change the future! See you back in 1998!" With a cheerful whistle, he breezed out of the room, taking Headmaster Dippet with him, but leaving behind a boy Harry recognized from the diary.

"It's you," Harry bit out.

"I'm sensing some underlying animosity, which makes absolutely no sense as we've just met," Tom Riddle mused. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me your life story? No? No matter, I must admit I didn't care anyway. Now hurry, you shall be staying in Slytherin with me, despite the obviously Gryffindor badge on your robes." Harry jumped off the bed, not wanting to be left alone, even though it wasn't like he would get lost on his own.

_End Current Part of Back Story_

"You stayed in Slytherin?" I asked curiously. He nodded.

"For quite some time. We even had to share a dorm room. It was just us, though. Despite the overcrowding in the rest of the school, Slytherins only have two to a room. For the first few months, we got along silently hating each other. But then, everything changed…"

_Back Story, Part 2_

Tom awoke to screams. Stumbling blindly from his bed, he made his way towards Harry, who was obviously in the grips of a very terrifying nightmare. 'Not that I care,' Tom comforted himself. 'I'm simply doing this so _I_ can sleep, not out of any real concern.' Nodding, firm in his resolve, he shook Harry's shoulder.

It didn't work.

So he shook it again. And again. And again. Finally, out of utter frustration, he pulled out his wand, muttering an incantation to make it emit the most horrendous, annoying, down right terrifying sound known to man. That's right. Tom's wand was impersonating an alarm clock. Not that _he_ would know that, of course, what with his fear of all things muggle.

Harry snapped awake, arm rearing back to punch, clutching the cricket bat he insisted on sleeping with. Upon realizing who it was, Harry let his fist fly, connecting soundly with Tom's jaw. Tom fell backwards, sputtering in shock.

"What the _hell_ was_ that _for?" he asked angrily.

"I had a nightmare," Harry said innocently.

Tom nodded, fully sympathizing with the unfortunate past he knew his roommate must have, despite the fact that Harry had never told him anything, or the fact that, from his nightmare, Harry could have just as easily been dreaming about heffelumps and woozels.

Harry, sensing the connection that had just been made, and not caring all of a sudden that this was the man that would kill his parents, leaned forwards. Their lips met in a kiss. With a flash of light, Harry disappeared, landing in a Hospital Wing where he _did_ know the matron.

_End of Back Story, Part 2_

I stared. "You're telling me that you are dating the Dark Lord because of a kiss from nearly 55 years ago?"

"Well you see," Harry said patiently. "The entire time, I had been secretly pining away for him. So secretly that I didn't even realize it myself. And so had he, I could tell. So, when Madame Pomfrey finally released me, I went straight to him. Of course, I had to explain how I was really Harry Potter, not James Evans-Granger. Once he knew, he, of course, remembered everything, and was no longer insane. Apparently missing a few months of your memory can do that to you." Harry nodded sagely before standing. "Now, I'm going to find my boyfriend. Talk to Rabastian, he's always had a thing for you." He made his dramatic exit before I could retort. Good thing, too, because the only thing I could do for the next five minutes was gape like a fish.

Author's Note: Well, there's the first installment of how they got together. I've got five more planned, but feel free to offer suggestions. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! It was the most I've ever gotten for a single chapter!


	3. Creature Mates

-1Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: Here's the second way!

Chapter 3

Creature Mates

"Hermione," Harry said, strolling into the library, where I was talking to Rabastian. "Did I ever tell you the story of how Voldemort and I got together?"

I'll admit it. I blinked somewhat stupidly at him for a few moments. "Yes, Harry, you did," I said slowly.

"No, I mean the _real_ story," Harry insisted, sitting down nearly on top of me.

"No, I suppose not. Why didn't you tell me the real one the first time?"

Harry shrugged. "No time like the present. It all started at midnight on my seventeenth birthday…"

_Back Story_

Harry screamed in agony. Alright, it might have been more like a tickle. Either way, as soon as the clock turned to 12:01, it stopped. There was a pecking at the window. Harry looked up to see a completely indistinguishable brown owl staring back at him. He jumped to open the window because, after all, who doesn't want to meet new owls?

"Hello, girl, what do you have for me?" Harry asked. The owl assumed a very offended look before trying to bite off a finger or two. "Okay, boy. But give me some credit, it's difficult to tell." He took the letter from the owl, who made one more swipe at his hand before flying off into the night. Harry unrolled the letter.

_Dear son_, it began

_I'm writing this to you on October 30, 1981, just incase the feeling I've been having is right and something is about to happen. I'm entrusting it with the Ministry, as they are known for their great memories, and certainly won't forget to send what could very well turn out to be an extremely insignificant letter._

_Harry, my son, you are a veela-vampire-elf mix. Myself, I am an elf. Your father is a vampire. The veela just sort of…appeared. Yes, Dumbledore knew the entire time, and is simply refusing to help you. I'm sure you'll figure everything out. Ta!_

_ Love,_

_ Mom_

_End Back Story_

I looked at Harry in disbelief. I looked at Rabastian, who was trying not to laugh.

"After that, I began training," Harry continued serenely.

_Back Story Part 2_

_Cue _Eye of the Tiger

Harry began training for his ultimate destiny, finding that, now that he was seventeen, it was much easier to get his hands on illegal Dark Arts books. For such a light family, the Potters sure had a lot of them in all the vaults that randomly appeared. He even found spells to alter time in his room, giving him more time. He learned nearly everything there was to know in the two weeks before he had to go to the Weasleys.

Soon, they went to get their school supplies. It started out as a perfectly innocent day. However, coming out of Gringotts, Harry stopped. There, not ten feet in front of him, was Voldemort. In Tom Riddle form, of course, but Voldemort none the less. Harry went down into a crouch, quite certain he could beat the biggest, baddest wizard of the age with no more that his thumb and pointer finger. He had, after all, studied kung-fu for two whole weeks!

The stage was set for the epic battle of the century, when Voldemort stopped and sniffed. Intrigued, Harry did the same. The most wonderful smell filled his nostrils! Vanilla and cinnamon and… and… He blushed. Oddly enough, so did Voldemort. Instead of flying at each other, wands drawn, they flew towards each other, each landing on the other's mouth.

"I'm a fairy, what are you?" Voldemort inquired when they came up for air.

"I'm a veela-vampire-elf-angel-demon hybrid," Harry gasped back, before closing the gap between them, and allowing Voldemort to apparate them away.

_End Back Story Part 2_

"And that's how it happened," Harry said proudly. "My veela-vampire-elf-angel-demon-elemental-incubus nature had found it's mate. Which really explained everything, like why he wanted to kill me, the link, why I burned him when he touched me in my first year, everything!"

"Harry," I said slowly, probably patronizingly. "That doesn't explain anything. And that's not what happened. It would have been in all the papers."

"Not if we'd used secrecy wards!" Harry exclaimed triumphantly after a moment.

"Did you?"

"…No…"

Harry left the room dejectedly, having been caught in his lie this time, while I turned back to Rabastian. "So you say that house elves used to breed with humans, do you?"

Author's Note: This story amuses me greatly, I must admit. This is probably my fastest update EVER! Thanks for the reviews, don't be afraid to review again! Newcomers always welcome! Also, if there's any particular aspect of a hp/lv/tr relationship that you'd like to see parodied, please let me know. There's at least four more ways they got together.


	4. Harry Gets Sick and Tired of it All

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It is all JKR's.

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long, I was really busy with school. That's about all I can say, so, here's the chapter:

Because You Are So Dear

Chapter 4

Harry Gets Sick and Tired of It All

It was so nice, sitting alone in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Harry and I had been coming and going quite a bit lately, but the last week had been spent entirely at the Order headquarters. I hadn't noticed how much I enjoyed my alone time until I wasn't getting it any more.

"Hello, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, waltzing into the kitchen. I blinked blearily at the clock above the stove.

"Harry, darling, it's three in the morning. There's no need to be that cheerful."

"Well, we're awake, aren't we? I'd say that's a pretty good reason."

"Not by choice," I grumbled. "Ginny started talking in her sleep."

"Can't be worse than Ron," Harry reasoned, pulling out a chair and flopping down beside me, a glass of water in his hands. "When I left, he was muttering something about 'Truth, justice, and the Wizarding way.' I didn't know there was a Superwizard."

I blinked at him for a moment, processing his words, and trying to decide if maybe he didn't mean the Justice League. "Anyway," I said, deciding I didn't want to know. Unfortunately, I didn't have anything to follow up with. Harry nodded knowingly.

"Would you like me to tell you a story?" he asked. I glanced down at the book I was reading, _There's Doxies in My Curtains, and Other Household Cleaning Woes_. Maybe I should look at the book I'm grabbing next time.

"Sure," I sighed.

"Hmm." He seemed to get lost in throught for a while. I, truthfully, wondered if he had forgotten his offer. "Have I ever told you how Tom and I got together?"

"Harry," I began with a long suffering sigh. He waved my concerns aside.

"I know I've told you a few versions, but how about this?"

"Oh Lord," I sighed, settling in.

"Well, you see, it all started on my fifteenth birthday. No, it must have been my sixteenth. Or maybe it was my seventeenth..."

_Back Story Part One_

It was 11:59 on July 30. One Harry Potter was the only person awake on Privet Drive. He stared anxiously at the alarm clock he had fixed using his amazing new knowledge of muggle mechanics gleaned from many years of study at Hogwarts. Or maybe, he happened to wake up to ring in his birthday. Either way, he was awake to see he very first seconds of July 31, and the greet the myriad of owls pecking to get in.

One of the myriad of owls bore the Ministry seal. 'Lord Potter,' it read. 'We are pleased to congratulate you on your inheritance. As you have received your inheritance vault key on your entry into Hogwarts, as well as one additional key each year. We would like you to go to Gringotts to collect the other vault keys for both the Potter and Black inheritances at your convenience.'

One owl was from Gringotts. 'Lord Potter-Black,' it began. 'Please come to Gringotts at your earliest convenience to discuss your inheritance.'

A third owl was from Dumbledore. 'Harry, I know you have received letters from both the Ministry and Gringotts asking you to go to Gringotts at your convenience. I must warn you not to go, as it is a trap. In fact, I forbid you from leaving your room at Privet Drive. Have a good summer!'

'Well, screw that!' Harry thought angrily. He wadded up the letter from Dumbledore, deciding to hurry to Gringotts as fast as he could.

_End Backstory part One_

"Harry, dear, that was a bit stupid," I sighed, not really expecting anything different, only thinking longingly of my bed, even if Ginny _was_ having her now-impossible dream of being Mrs. Harry Potter. Or maybe just of having Mr. Harry Potter's babies. Whichever it was, it was extremely graphic. Not to mention disturbing. Nevermind, I wanted to hear the rest of the story.

_Backstory Part Two_

Harry boarded the Knight Bus and arrived in Diagon Alley unharmed. However, before he reached Gringotts, he got distracted by a shiny object. Well, maybe it was simply Malfoy-blonde hair. Either way, he followed it directly into Knockturn Alley.

Almost before he knew what was going on, he had been ambushed. Harry waved his wand with flourish, shouting spells left and right. Unfortunately, teachers hadn't thought to teach students much about shield charms when teaching them to transfigure tea cups into kittens and the like. Unfortunately for Harry, _protego_ was hardly even capable of blocking a disarming charm, much less anything more severe. He was knocked unconscious within seconds.

He awoke to find himself in a dark, dank dungeon. 'How typical,' Harry thought. 'Someday, an evil overlord should throw a prisoner into a neon yellow and pink room. Now _that_ would be torture.'

Bellatrix Lestrange stormed into the dungeon, Lucius Malfoy close on her heels. Well, as close as he could be and still avoid all mold, mildew, blood stains, dust, well, you get the idea. So, in other words, he was standing at the door, thisclose to entering the hallway.

"The Dark Lord will see you now," Bellatrix cackled.

"Finally," Harry sighed, standing up and brushing lint off his robes. "Lets go." Bellatrix blinked owlishly, before shrugging, and leading him out of the dungeon. Harry couldn't help but giggle as he watched Lucius Malfoy try to both let them pass and try to avoid touching the walls.

Bellatrix marched him into the ballroom, throwing him at the feet of Voldemort's throne.

"Will you join me?" Voldemort hissed, eyeing Harry.

Harry glared up at Voldemort, ready to spit back his reply. Instead, he got lost in the endless depths of glistening ruby. He opened his mouth, trying to make words, but only unintelligible sounds came out.

Voldemort was having much the same problem, staring into sparkling emeralds. Before either had completely realized what was happening, they were attached at the mouth. All of the Death Eaters stared in shock and complete horror.

"Dismissed," Voldemort hissed, sliding his hands under Harry's shirt, quickly reattaching himself. The Death Eaters simply stood there.

Then Harry groaned. "Take me _now_!" _That_ got the Death Eaters moving. In fact, a few were trampled on the way out.

_End Backstory Part Two_

"So that's how Pettigrew was finally killed, was it?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Yup!" Harry grinned. "You should have seen Lucius's face when he realized he'd speared him on the heel of his boot. It seems he has a bit of a rat phobia, and Pettigrew had transformed in hopes of making it out faster, and well, it didn't work. Well, I'm beat. I'll just be off to bed." He bounced out of the room.

I stood, stretching my back and rolling my neck. Guess it was back to listening to Ginny. Maybe I still had a sleeping potion in my trunk...

Author's Note: Well, there it is! Hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


	5. I'm Liberating Myself

Disclaimer: I own nothing; anything you recognize is JKR, and, for this chapter only, everything in bold is from howstuffworks . com. A highly recommendable sight.

Author's Note: Here's the next installment, because I couldn't resist, and it's taking longer than I'd like to find the password for my laptop. **Anyone who tells me what's special about the bold words can help me decide which spoof to do next!**

Chapter Five

I Am Liberating Myself (Otherwise Known as Running Away)

I sat at the table in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. Earlier, I had convinced Mrs. Weasley I _needed ice cream now_, so she had let me go to the muggle convenience store down the road, where I refilled my Ben and Jerry's stash.

"Yum," I moaned, closing my eyes. 'Cookie dough and brownie bits.'

A chair scraping across the table made me jump. My eyes snapped open to see Harry sitting across from me. That, in itself, was not unusual. However, at three in the morning, _again,_ was pushing things a bit.

"Ron was talking in his sleep, again," he muttered sleepily.

"I am savoring my ice cream. If I eat it earlier, everyone else wants some, too," I sighed, offering Harry some. "That, and Ginny's started snoring again." We sat for some minutes, simply enjoying the other's company and silence, before it got the better of Harry.

"**Do geese see God?**" he asked. I stared. He seemed completely serious, if not slightly dazed. He shook his head, as if to get rid of the thought, before starting an entirely new thread of conversation. "Did I tell you how Tom and I got together? The real version, I mean?" he asked.

I glanced down at my ice cream, longing for the minutes of just the two of us. It seemed Harry liked his stories like I liked my ice cream: Half Baked. "No, go ahead," I sighed, scraping the last from the bottom.

_Backstory Part One_

It was the night of Harry's fifteenth birthday. Or the sixteenth. Or maybe it was the seventeenth. Whichever it was, he was about to come of age, and was expecting a huge influx of power. He eyed the clock on his nightstand, which he had repaired using the technical knowledge of muggle electronics gleaned from his years of study at Hogwarts.

"Ah, here we go," he exclaimed, just as the clock flipped over to July 31st. Nothing happened. "Where was the big influx of power? Where was my inheritance? What is going on?" That was forgotten, however, as moments later, a hoard of owls attacked his bedroom window.

He got the customary owls from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Hogwarts. He also got an owl from Gringotts, informing him of his vast inheritance he had never heard of before and that he needed to claim it as soon as possible, a letter from the Ministry of Magic stating he was now of age, could use magic outside of Hogwarts, and should appear as soon as possible to apply for his Apparition license. There was also a letter from Professor Dumbledore, stating he couldn't do either of these things.

Harry paused for a moment, considering Dumbledore's position. Could it be that he would simply to be to hard to protect, as the Death Eaters and Voldemort could anticipate both moves, and that they couldn't trust everyone in the Ministry and Diagon Alley was too busy a place? Nah, it had to be that Dumbledore was a bastard, who had been stealing from him and lying to him the entire time he had been alive. Yes, that sounded much more plausible. He needed **a man. A plan. A canal. Panama!**

Thinking further, he decided that perhaps running off to Central America would not be the best solution to this particular problem. But who could he turn to? Who was the one person he was certain had never lied to him? Voldemort, of course! After all, what are a few dead relatives, friends, and death threats when your mentor had possibly _lied_ to you? Feeling much better about the whole thing, Harry laid down, deciding to contact Voldemort in the morning.

_Temporary Interruption of Backstory_

I couldn't help it. I snorted. "You were running away to _Panama_, because Dumbledore told you that you couldn't go to the Ministry or Gringotts? You thought he was lying? _That's_ why you ran to Voldemort?"

Harry at least had the good grace to blush. "I was young." I raised an eyebrow. "Not like I am now," he explained. "I was just turning fifteen. Or sixteen. Or maybe seventeen, I can't remember. But now, I am a wise old man of nineteen, and I know better. Then, however, I didn't know who I could trust."

"So the natural choice was Voldemort? Oh, _now_ I see." I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"_Anyway_," Harry stressed. "The next morning…"

_Ending Temporary Interruption for Backstory Part Two_

Harry made his way downstairs the next morning. Petunia and Vernon had decided to go on a cruise for their anniversary, leaving both boys at home. Harry and Dudley had actually managed to call a bit of a truce.

"**Vanna wanna V**?" Dudley howled at the television screen. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Dudley, where's last night's left-overs?" Harry called, examining the contents of the fridge.

"**Go hang a salami. I'm a lasagna hog**!" was Dudley's only semi-coherent response. Harry rolled his eyes, deciding to forget breakfast for the time being, and head upstairs to attempt to contact Voldemort.

"**A nut for a jar of tuna**," was the first thing Harry heard once inside the Dark Lord's mind. Probing further, Harry realized he was betting with Lucius. That seemed slightly out of character for the man. Maybe he would simply hang out here until he was noticed?

While he was pondering this, the game had progressed. Voldemort was currently offering **murder for a jar of red rum**. Before Harry had quite gotten the hang of the strange game, which didn't seem to have any point except for naming random trades, Lucius asked a very crucial question.

"**Borrow or rob**?"

"I'll say…rob," Voldemort answered. "Ana!"

A small house elf appeared in the room. "What can Ana be getting Master?"

"Could you steal a banana for me?"

Ana nodded frantically, her large ears flopping madly. "Yes, sir. **Ana nab a banana** right away, sir!" An hour or more was spent on this game, which seemed to simply be making their house elves steal larger and larger items. Suddenly, Severus burst into the room.

"My Lord, you need to call a meeting. We've worked out a way to get the Potter brat." Voldemort nodded, holding out a hand for an arm baring a dark mark. "Odds or evens?" Severus asked.

"**Never odd or even**," Lucius replied. They proceeded to play rock, paper, scissors instead. Lucius lost. Sighing, he held out his arm, letting out a giggle as Voldemort summoned his Death Eaters.

The meeting seemed to last _forever_, in Harry's unbiased, very patient opinion. And now Voldemort had started monologuing. Harry thought evil villians only did that when they couldn't kill the protagonist yet, because they had more books, comics, and movies to enjoy together. It seemed Voldemort also used it as a sort of sedative.

"**Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era**?"

'_Huh_?' was the most coherent thought Harry could come up with. He tuned out the rest of the speech, jumping slightly when applause sounded in his head. Glancing out through Voldemort's eyes, he saw that every single Death Eater except Peter Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange, who were both sitting at rapt attention, had fallen asleep. They were, however, doing all they could to make up the difference.

"Bravo!" they called. "Encore!" Fortunately, all of their shouting woke up the rest of the Death Eaters, who started cheering as well before rapidly apparating away. Harry decided to take advantage of the moment, and get Voldemort's attention. "_**Was it Elliot's toilet I saw**_?"

"What?" Voldemort questioned. "Who said that?"

"I did!" Harry giggled cheerfully.

Voldemort seemed to finally be catching on. He wasn't the smartest wizard before Hermione Granger for nothing.

_Temporarily post-pone backstory momentarily_

"Aw!" I cooed. "How sweet, Harry!"

"Well it's true!" he insisted. "Everyone says you're the smartest witch of the age! Although how they could have possibly met every witch in the world, or even every witch at Hogwarts, is beyond me. But I still think you're the best!" he added hastily as I narrowed my eyes. "Now where was I? Ah, yes, Voldemort had found me, and we were having a nice, long talk. In fact, we had them several times."

_And again with the backstory_

Harry was sitting on his bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Voldemort to contact him, when he passed out.

When he came to, or thought he did, he was sitting in complete darkness.

"_Imagine what you want the room to look like_," a voice called.

"How?" Harry asked, deciding sitting Indian style was much more comfortable than being sprawled out on the non-existent floor, with his arm under him and his head at an odd angle. "I was never any good at Occlumency."

"_That is simply because you had a horrible teacher,_" the voice called. "_Clear your mind tells you nothing. Imagine what the room should look like is so much more informative._"

"Right," Harry said, glancing around. 'Lets see, the walls should be a pretty neon orange color.' To his utter disgust, they turned a rich cream instead. Next, he tried to make the floor a charming puce color. They turned into a dark pine instead. "What gives?" Harry snapped.

"_I didn't know you had such horrible taste_," the voice admitted. "_Try again._"

Harry screwed up his face, concentrating with all his might. It kind of hurt a bit. He pictured a pair of bright lime green arm chairs. The voice sighed. A pair of forest green chairs appeared instead. Harry crossed his arms and stamped his foot. The voice sighed again, making them more emerald colored.

"Fine, now I just need you!" Harry grinned. He pictured the clothes he remembered Dudley wearing for his school play one time. He opened his eyes, taking in the humongous red shoes, rainbow striped pants, baggy white shirt with blue suspenders, novelty flower, white face paint, and bright red nose, even a bright rainbow wig. Then he froze. It _wasn't_ white face paint. And the red nose wasn't actually staying where it was supposed to. In fact, the only thing it seemed able to cling to was the pointy chin. There actually wasn't much nose there.

That's right. He was staring into the face of Voldemort. Albeit, a Voldemort in a clown suit, but Voldemort nonetheless. A Voldemort that looked a bit perturbed, truth be told.

The Dark Lord sighed once more before getting rid of the clown costume. Harry eyed him critically.

"Good move. Definitely not as scary anymore," he pronounced, settling into the opposite chair. "What did you drag me here for?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Voldemort asked, attempting an innocent look. Harry shuddered. He preferred the clown costume, actually. Voldemort decided instead that he should continue, instead of letting Harry getting his two cents worth in. "I wanted to be able to see you. You miss half the conversation if you can't see the other person's facial expressions. I have decided to give you a test. You are to lead a raid."

"Really? Really? I get to lead a raid?" Harry squealed, bouncing up and down on the chair excitedly.

_Postpone backstory for Hermione's two-cents worth_

"Giddy, much?" I teased. Harry had the grace to blush.

"I might have just had a lot of sugar," he protested.

"But had you?"

"No," he sighed. "I just get that way when I get really in to something. It used to happen every time I'd read _Green Eggs and Ham_."

"_Green Eggs and Ham_?" Harry chose to ignore me, continuing with the story.

_Now that Hermione's had her say..._

"I need you to lead a raid on the Garden of Eden," Voldemort pronounced.

"You mean it exists?" Harry exclaimed, eyes wide.

"What do you mean, does it exist. It's been in the same building in Knockturn Alley for the past 150 years!"

"Ah, something named for irony, or perhaps to simply be sacriligious," Harry said knowlegdably.

"What are you talking about?"

"Haven't you ever been to church?"

"No. **We panic in a pew**."

"Right," Harry said, looking at him strangely. Voldemort ignored him, focusing instead on giving him the details of the raid on the bar, which was currently acting as a checkpoint for some of the seedier Order members.

"I'll get right on it," Harry promised, rising to leave.

"Wait!" Voldemort exclaimed, suddenly going slightly pink. "That's not it."

"Oh," Harry said, sinking down in the chair. "Then what is?"

"In the five minutes we've been together without fighting, I've realized something. I don't hate you. That was just to cover up my true feelings. In fact, I love you."

"So that's what that is," Harry said, thinking a bit. "I've been feeling something a bit off. I put it down to the milk I drank earlier, though. Dudley's not such a great grocery shopper. Maybe it _is_ love!"

With that revelation reached, each went back to their own heads, instead of staying in that place in between that only exists for them, that they could make into anything they wanted, and that made it seem like they were sleeping, when they really weren't. 'It's a very convenient space,' Harry thought to himself as he sat up, making his way downstairs, vowing to try the orange juice instead this morning.

Later that night, Harry snuck out, ready to meet Voldemort face-to-face for real this time, instead of in their heads.

"Excellent," Voldemort crooned when he arrived. "We've been staking out this place for about a month. We're nearly ready to strike, but we need someone to get inside the place. Most of us are too well-known, so it will have to be you."

_Again with Hermione's inspired insights_

"Please tell me I'm not the only one who saw the irony in that?" I begged.

Harry looked thoughtful, although it was always difficult to tell with him. "I suppose that is a little strange," he finally admitted. I groaned.

_Now that she's done for a while..._

Harry skulked around the entrance to the shop, trying not to garner odd looks. Of course, he was the Boy-Who-Lived in Knockturn Alley. He was getting nothing _but_ strange looks. Finally, he decided to bite the bullet, hopefully figuratively speaking, and go inside.

"Hello, can I help you?" the woman at the front desk asked as the bell over the door sounded.

"**Madam in Eden, I'm Adam**," Harry proclaimed solemnly. The woman simply nodded.

"That's nice," she said, turning to her magazine. "Feel free to look around. The blondes are to your right, brunettes to your left, and the red-haired ones are straight ahead. Hopefully you'll be taking one home!" Harry gaped. What kind of place _was_ this? Trying to avert his still-innocent eyes, he walked around in what he hoped seemed to be an aimless fashion, scoping out the security. He realized he would need to see the office.

He snuck down the hallway, glancing back at the receptionist every so often to see if she was paying him any attention. She wasn't.

He had been poking around the office for nearly fifteen minutes before he found what he was looking for. And he couldn't figure out why he hadn't found it earlier. There was, after all, a large, blinking neon sign with an arrow proudly pointing the way to 'Security Features.' There seemed to be several muggle-style security cameras. He glanced at one screen, letting out a giggle. "**Dennis and Edna sinned**!" he snickered to himself before hastily wiping the smile from his face and continuing with the search.

_The question I'm sure you're all wondering_

"Who are Dennis and Edna?" I asked curiously. To the best of my knowledge, which was quite extensive if I did say so myself, I didn't know an Edna, and only Dennis Creevy.

"Oh, you wouldn't know them," Harry said, waving off the question.

_Okay, maybe you weren't wondering_

Harry finished his surveillance and reported back. Within a week, he had been sent on his raid, with great success. He and Voldemort sat, discussing the outcome, later that night.

"I got you something!" Harry exclaimed suddenly. He pulled his jacket off of the table it had been laying on, revealing a box with holes in it. "Here!" He thrust it into Voldemort's arms.

Voldemort opened the package wearily. He peaked inside. "Oh! I'm going to call that one Dennis, and that one Edna!"

"Good choice," Harry replied, nodding sagely as Voldemort took each kitten out of the box, cooing over each of them.

Suddenly, Voldemort placed the kittens back in the box, looking at Harry with an unmistakable look in his eye. Moving swiftly across the table, he yanked Harry's hair. Hard.

"What did you do that for?" Harry asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"I didn't have an inkwell handy."

"Oh." Harry threw himself into Voldemort's arms, the pair locked in a passionate embrace, the kittens still on the floor.

There was a knock on the door. "**Oozy rat in a sanitary zoo**!" Voldemort swore. "What is it?"

"All of the evidence the raid has been destroyed!" a minion squeaked from behind the still closed door. They then heard the unmistakable sounds of said minion scurrying away.

"You never told me," Harry said conversationally from his spot in Voldemort's arms. "Why was everyone so afraid to enter a pet shop?"

_Final ending of backstory... for this chapter_

"A _pet shop_?" I exploded.

"Of course, Hermione. What did you think it was?" Harry asked, giving me a wide-eyed, innocent look. I opened my mouth a few times, searching for a response, before giving up.

"I'm going to bed," I grunted.

Author's Note: Alright, so this one was actually started before the last one was started, but I lost it/forgot about it/somehow didn't finish it until now.

Also, very important question: **When authors say that they have to have so many reviews before they'll update again, what is your general reaction? Do you review? Do you not care? Do you never read the story again because you're so aggravated?** Anyways, I'm simply curious, because I'm always tempted to take the story off my alerts list, although I never do. I don't, however, review, either, just because it's demanded. In fact, that's a pretty sure-fire way of making me _not_ review. Anyways, please tell me, either in a review, or in the poll I'm about to post on my profile. Thanks!


	6. Praying for the End of Time

Disclaimer: I own even less than usual, I believe...

Author's Note: Finally posted, even with crappy internet! Well, here it is, by the overwhelming majority of 1 to 0. What can I say, when one side gets 100% of the votes, that's what happens. And they were palindromes, by the way, which served no point except they amused me. So, anyway, here it is...

Because You Are So Dear

Chapter Six

Praying for the End of Time

I snuggled into my pillow. My very warm pillow. My very warm, moving, chuckling pillow. I opened my eyes to see Rabastian grinning down at me. I grinned back, leaning up to kiss him. At that moment, the door banged open. I fell forward, startled. "Hello, Harry."

"'Ello, 'Moine," he chuckled. "I have been sent to tell Rabastian that he is desperately needed in the dining room. Lucius also says that he doesn't care if he is also desperately needed here, Death Eater business trumps all but a really great sale."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure, Harry. I'm sure that's _exactly_ what he said." I rolled off Rabastian, and we both sat up, searching for the clothes we had lost the night before. "Do you _mind_?"

"Why should I?" Harry asked, settling into an armchair. I huffed. Rabastian chuckled again, pulling his jeans back on under the blankets before standing. Kissing me good-bye, he exited the room. "So now what do you want to do?" Harry asked, kicking his legs.

"Get dressed seems like it should be high on my priority list," I replied, giving my best glare. Unfortunately, it was nowhere up to par. Even if it had been, Harry had always been particularly immune.

"Wanna hear how Voldemort and I got together?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, Harry. That's exactly what I want to hear about, _again_, at 8 o'clock in the morning, without having had breakfast, and while I'm completely naked!"

"I thought so," Harry said, nodding. I groaned, flopping back on the bed, making sure to take the covers with me.

_Back Story, Part One_

"What do you mean we're bonded for life?" Harry shouted. Then he paused. "Or is it bound? Or maybe just 'bond' with no change? How about hitched? Tied together? Manacled to each other by the jaws of life?"

"I mean, Harry my boy, that when Voldemort tried to kill you that night, it triggered the soul mate bond. Now, as you're soul mates as opposed to regular bondage people, when one of you dies, the other dies as well. But that shouldn't stop you, now should it?"

"What do you mean, that shouldn't stop me?" Harry asked, horror-struck. "You mean that if Voldemort bites the big one, I'll go, too?"

"Yes, jolly good of you to accept it so easily my boy. Now run along, there's a good lad." Harry remained seated, doing a quality impersonation of a goldfish.

_Hermione's Comments, Part One_

"That's comletely crazy!" I exclaimed, nearly dropping my covers in shock. "Why would such a hate-filled curse as the Killing Curse trigger a Soul Mate Bond?"

"You mean it's a real thing?" Harry asked distractedly. "Oh! Never mind. Where was I?"

"Harry, could you hand me my bra?" He pulled it off the back of his chair and tossed it to me before continuing his story.

"So naturally, I contacted Tom..."

_Now that that's done..._

"We're not binded, Potter," Tom said once Harry finally got ahold of him by staging a mass raid of Malfoy Manor, where the Dark Lord just happened to be staying. A Dark Lord who just happened to look like he was seventeen instead of seventy, which was always a plus. Except for one red eye. Many people had liked his normal eyes when he was younger, but there was just something about the red that many people found sexy. So he compromised with one eye that was half-blue-half-green, and the other being completely red. As in just one, big, bloodshot ball. No white, or even black, snake-slitted pupil was visible. To Harry, it looked as if he had shoved a large muggle bouncy ball through his eye socket.

Nevertheless, the man was now ruggedly handsome, although even his snakelike appearance had quite appealed to Harry. He'd never much cared for noses, anyway. That was part of the reason he didn't like Snape, all of the excess nose. That, sadly, wasn't here nor there, either.

_Back to the Future (Which is, of course, actually the present)_

"What was my point?" Harry mused. I glared. Now having my undergarments back in place, I was searching the room for my t-shirt and jeans.

"I can't believe I'm asking this," I sighed. "But, _why_ were you not... binded, was it?"

"Ah, yes, thank you dear."

_Meanwhile, in 1955 I believe (known as Potterverse as1997. Or perhaps, arguably, 1994. And poor Harry won't get a Pepsi Free either, or escape on a skateboard. But that, like the bouncy ball, is neither here nor there.)_

"We haven't slept together, Potter, so we can't be shackled."

"Actually," Harry felt the need to point out. "It's still quite possible to actually be shackled. We just need some handcuffs. Do Aurors use those when they make an arrest? Because if so, you've had a good shackling coming for a long time."

Voldemort blinked slowly. "I suppose you have a point," he admitted after a moment. "Would you like to be shackled, Harry?" He waggled his new eyebrows experimentally, not to mention suggestively.

"Would you love me forever?" Harry asked, making the biggest puppy eyes he could manage.

"Well," Voldemort hedged. "I'm a bit new to this whole 'love' thing. How about I sleep on it? I'll give you my answer in the morning!"

"You'll break your promise! Or forget your vow!" Harry sniffled.

"No, never! Just let me sleep on it!"

And so the argument went, all through the night. Until, finally, they slept together.

"Tom, bunny, why were we soulmates?"

"Because, sugarplum, we are both the great-many-times-removed grandchildren of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. You see, it's a little known fact in the Wizarding World, so little it would never, ever be mentioned, that not only can men get pregnant, but women can get pregnant without men. And so, Godric married Salazar, and Rowena married Helga, and luckily, the wizarding world is inexplicably more tolerant than the muggle world, despite the whining about blood, since people apparently mate with horses quite frequently, as everyone knows that hybrids can't produce offspring. That's why wholphins and ligers will never have their own children. Quite sad really... I'm surprised people don't lobby for it, as they are, after all, endangered species and all that. What whale goes up to a dolphin and ask for sex, even if they are the only other mammal besides humans to enjoy it? It just doesn't happen! How many donkeys do you see approach horses, and then, whoops, there's a mule. Yes, very endangered. Oh yes, where was I? Oh, right. Around 1000 AD, people were extremely open. Oh, not about witches and wizards, that's why Hogwarts was founded, but about men getting pregnant. So they had a child, a baby girl. Then she had a child. And so on and so forth until about ninety years ago, someone broke the mold and had _two_ children. One became my mother, and the other became your grandfather."

"Wait," Harry said slowly. "So you're saying that you're old enough to be my grandfather?"

"Great-grandfather, for some people. Heck, possibly even great-great-grandfather."

"What have I done?" Harry wailed. "I was supposed to marry someone young, who fell asleep after sex, and could provide me with multitudes of offspring to repopulate the earth! I demand a divorce! You lured me here under false pretenses! You beat me! You aren't even really you! I'm not even really me!"

"Harry, there is no divorce possible. We're soul mates. And weren't you listening? Men can have children. Since you agreed to sleep with me, the potion has just appeared on my desk."

"How?"

"Magic, of course! I believe the most difficult part is sneezing twice while dancing around in a circle holding your left foot. Either that, or Severus dropped his beaker, and has a bit of a head cold."

"And I can have the family I always dreamed of? Ever since I was a young boy, I've wanted kids of my own, you know. To compensate for not having any parents growing up."

"Me, too!" Voldemort exclaimed excitedly. "This is really quite amazing."

_Back to the Bedroom_

"That's nice," I said, pulling my shoes on. "But where are the kids then, hmm?"

"Right here! Come on in, everyone," Harry called down the hallway. "This is Emma, Johnny, Jonny, Frank, Susie, Jeffery, Geoffrey, Jane, Jayn, George, Jorge, Georg, and little Mary, Marie, and Maria, the triplets!"

"Harry, these are not your kids," I said calmly, taking them all in. "For instance, that one's blonde," I said, pointing to Frank.

"Ah, yes, takes after my mother," Harry said, misty-eyed.

"You're mother was a redhead."

"I mean he takes after Tom's mother."

"Harry, this one is at least thirteen."

"Yes, Hermione. My oldest."

"You're twenty. You had him when you were seven?"

"So? I survived a Killing Curse at age one! Smoked my first cigar at age three!"

"And you couldn't give them their own names? There are so many to chose from!"

"We wanted to keep it simple. After all, everyone else has strange names, so why should they? What should we have named them, Starshine Sunset Rainbow?"

"These kids don't look anything like either one of you. Or each other, for that matter."

"Of course not, we raised them to be individuals!"

I rolled my eyes. "Now for my most damning piece of evidence. Harry, I know most of these kids. That one is Draco and Pansy's daughter," I said, pointing to 'Marie.' "And that one is Percy's second oldest. And _that_ one is a student at Hogwarts!"

"But, but," Harry protested.

"No. I'm going to find Rabastian. Come get me when you've come up with your next story."

Author's Note: Now lets see, how was that? That was the result of no internet for nearly a week, being up until after 4 in the morning, and just finishing up Fawlty Towers disc 3. Now for the references.

The title and a bit of the dialogue between Harry and Tom is from Paradise by the Dashboard Light by Meatloaf. The Back to the Future references should be obvious. The names are based off the Simpsons where the 25 puppies are born, and between them, there are five names and lots of roman numerals. And the end with the kids is from M*A*S*H. Well, I think that's everything, but, like I said, it's 4 in the morning, so I may be wrong.

Thanks for the reviews last time. Don't feel shy about reviewing again!


	7. Yes Mister Master Voldy!

Disclaimer: Wow, I own less than usual for this chapter. Harry Potter isn't mine, it's JKR's. The basic idea is **Kamerreon'**s**, **who so kindly left the idea in a review. Lets see... There's a Monty Python and the Holy Grail reference, and a Princess Bride reference mixed in, and the very least. Anything else you recognize probably isn't mine either, unless I've got hoards of publishing royalties stored away somewhere, and no one's told me.

Author's Note: So, it's been quite a while since the last update. However, I've been... no wait. I broke my... no, not that either. Alright, seriously? I was abducted by aliens, and have only now escaped. Yup, that sounds as plausible as any other excuse, right?

Ah, yes, and thanks very much to **Kamerreon**, who kindly pointed out that I had missed a few cliches. I'm sure there's more out there! Remember, this story ends when I run out of cliches, and I've only got two left!

Because You Are So Dear

Chapter Apparently Seven

Yes, Mister Master Voldy!

"Hermione!" Harry called in a sing-song voice. "Where are you?"

I held my breath. If he really didn't know where I was, I wanted to keep it that way. Rabastian, however, was no help. He burst into high, unmanly giggles. Not even a cackle, mind, or a chuckle, or a good guffaw, but a giggle.

"I'm so glad I slipped you that tracker!" Harry exclaimed, emerging from behind the stack of books.

"I don't have a tracker, Harry."

"Not technically," he conceded. "But Rabastian's nearly as good! He just hates to stay hidden. Now you," he continued, turning to my guilty-looking boyfriend. "Rodolphus called a family meeting. Personally, I think he just wants help escorting Bellatrix to the funny farm, but I may be biased."

Rabastian laughed again, this time an equally undignified snort, before taking his leave.

"So Harry," I said before the boy could open his mouth. "Tell me how you and Voldemort got together."

"If you insist. It was the day of the final battle..."

_For a change, somewhere in the perhaps future... so Hermione thinks_

It was the day/night/predawn of The Final Battle. And yes, it would go down in history as The Final Battle. This is, after all, the same society that gave us such interesting monikers as the 'Boy-Who-Lived,' the 'Chosen One,' and, of course, 'You-Know-Who.' I mean, seriously, there are so many unusual names, why don't I get one? Poor Tom had to go and make one up for himself-

_SCREEEEECH!!!_

Suddenly, there were one hundred Hermiones, all yelling 'Get on with it!'

_Um... !!!HCEEEEERCS?_

Right, on to scene 24... I mean, The Final Battle, where Harry had discovered an important clue.

"I cannot beat him," Harry thought morosely. "I cannot beat him with a fish, I cannot beat him in a dish. I cannot not beat him with a rat, I cannot beat him while wearing a hat." He stopped, shook himself, then continued on, using the corridor the other fighters so kindly left him to reach Voldemort. "If only I had paid attention in Transfiguration instead of turning a tea pot into a tortoise... Wait a minute!" Harry paused for a moment, pondering the utter injustice of it all. "And just think, I could have been doing something useful, like learning to turn a blade of grass into a semi-automatic rifle!"

He bravely continued forward, his wand that wouldn't work against Voldemort in one hand, and the sword of Gryffindor that he didn't miraculously know how to use in the other.

"Hello, Voldemort, I'm here!" he proclaimed, reaching the Dark Lord who was unsuspiciously unguarded. "I am Harry Potter. You killed my father, even though it was apparently for grins and for no _real_ advancement of your goals or my story. Prepare to die!"

"I don't think so!" Voldemort screamed. "Now!"

Bellatrix sprang out of hiding, immobilizing Harry, making his weapons even more useless than before.

"No fair!" Harry shrieked. "I obeyed the _Final Stand of all Heros and Villians of Battle_ handbook! Chapter 19, page 319, rule 516, paragraph 3, footnote at the bottom clearly states the only people to witness a final confrontation are said Hero and Villian!"

"I play by my own rules, Potter! That's kind of the reason I'm trying to take over the Ministry?" Voldemort crowed. "Now, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to do what always works so well for us fictional bad guys. I'm going to take you prisoner and break your spirit by making you angry. If you're especially willful, I'm sure I can find a pointy stick laying around somewhere... You will bend to my will!"

"Never!" Harry screamed.

The Order, Aurors, students, and random tourists glanced in their direction before quietly putting down their wands. After all, it had been printed in the newspaper that Harry was the only one that could beat Voldemort, and newspapers never sensationalize, right? The Death Eaters turned their wands on their oh-so-foolish opponents, and killed them. Every single one, including Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.

_Come on, you knew it was about time for one_

"Um, Harry?" I asked timidly. "Why did Tom refer to himself as a fictional character?"

"At the time, I'll admit, I thought he was nuttier than rat crap at a pistachio factory," Harry shrugged. "Since then, I've come to recognize the deep psychological differences between Voldemort and Tom and believe that he was referring to the Voldemort persona as fictional, as that one is, in fact, completely made up."

"Oh," I said. That actually made sense, in a strange, Harry sort of way. I was a bit upset I hadn't come up with that myself. "And how am I here if I died? Wait, I don't want to know, I'm sure you'll come up with something. Please continue."

_So, I don't know if you've figured it out yet, but I'm running out of things to put here..._

Harry didn't know how much time had elapsed since he had been thrown into this dark, dank, moldy cell with throw pillows and frilly curtains. And no, he didn't know why there were curtains, as it was, in fact, a windowless dungeon cell, hence the 'dark.' They were simply piled up in a corner.They were lacy and pink, though. Personally, Harry thought they were a nice, homey touch.

He startled awake on his four-poster-down-mattress-slash-pointy-rock when he heard a Death Eater coming with his food. It was always a toss-up whether or not they would be bribing him with a ten course meal, or starving him with moldy bread and dirty water. Today, it appeared to be the bread and water. Harry was thrilled. He was making a moldy bread house in the corner to occupy his time.

"When you're done, the Dark Lord has a surprise for you," Bellatrix cackled. Harry nodded, making his way over.

They wandered towards the surface level, taking wrong turns every so often. Bellatrix claimed it was so Harry wouldn't be able to escape. Harry thought Bellatrix was simply stupid.

"Ah, Potter! Surely you're time in the sub-levels of my miraculously-appearing-ancient-ancestry-house have bent you to my will! Did you get your time with the pointy stick?"

Harry gave Voldemort a speculative look. "Fortunately for me it was on a 'kindness' day, so there was a fluffy pillow at the end. Did a number on the pillow, though."

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Bella, fetch the first victim."

Harry paled significantly behind the tan he managed to maintain, despite the fact that, for all he knew, he had spent years in the dungeon.

The first to be pulled out onto the raised floor not unlike a stage was Ronald Weasley. "You traitor!" he bellowed. "I'll never forgive you for this! Never!" He continued on for ten minutes until, in self-defense, Voldemort killed him.

"Maybe I shouldn't have started with him," Voldemort said, more to himself than to Harry. "Next!"

Ginny Weasley appeared, sobbing uncontrollably. "I thought you loved me!" she wailed, banging her fists and kicking her feet. "Why don't you love me? We've had such stimulating conversations! All two!" She soon met the same fate as her older brother.

"This obviously isn't working," Voldemort muttered. Harry, however, had a different idea.

"You have killed my friends," he said serenely, moving to kneel beside Voldemort. "I am forever in your debt. The makers of headache potions may not be so happy with you, though. I have nothing left to live for. I would love to be your slave, and have dozens of babies for you. They shall be half snake. However, you _did_ kill my father..."

Voldemort fluttered his eyelash-less eyelids at him. "Oh all right, I forgive you, you big puppy you."

_Really, that's the end. Hermione _did_ ask for this story, so I suppose she didn't have as many questions this time._

"That's why you forgave Voldemort?" I exploded. "Because he fluttered his eyelids at you?" I calmed momentarily. "Is that why you still don't like Bellatrix or Pettigrew? Because they have eyelashes?"

Harry nodded firmly. "Excessive eyelashes freak me out a little bit," he admitted. "They're almost worse than noses."

"And you _do_ know Ron and Ginny are still alive, right?"

"Of course I know you think that," he sighed. "They're holograms. Wizards would never think to test if something is solid or not. They just check to see if they have to take a drink every hour on the hour, or if they get weird convulsions when they don't."

"So then where's your collar?" I asked. "Surely Tom wouldn't let you go around unmarked."

Speak of the devil, Tom wandered in at exactly that moment.

"Harry," he began. "I've got a Death Eater meeting in twenty minutes. Please?"

Harry nodded. Tom practically ran from the room. Harry slowly stood to follow him. He grinned lecherously at me.

"Who says I'd be the one wearing the collar?" he winked.

Author's Note the Second: So, what'd you think? Feel free to share!

Oh, on another note (literally, Chapter Five's note), when an author demands reviews, the vast majority of you don't like it, although it makes only a slight majority of you (counting reviews as well as the polls) not review. Thank you for your input. I'm glad to know I'm not the only one, but sometimes when you look at the number of reviews and the number of demands, it makes you wonder.

And, last one, I promise, I do know I killed Ron and Ginny twice. It's so much fun, I couldn't just do it once! That, and authors seem to forget who they've killed, and manage to kill the same character off by the killing curse, poison, torture, falling rocks, and on the toilet all in the same story.


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